Family Ties
by Rosie eisoR
Summary: One-shot. Follows Cythera and Gary as their youngest child grows up. Winner of Tortall section and Best Characterisation in Piercefic '08.


Something else written for treanzalyce; my entry for her Piercefic '08 competition. One-shot.

Revised since the Naxen children's names got released.

* * *

It is almost midnight in Naxen, and quiet has settled over the fief like a veil. The rush of wind outside is clearly audible, making Cythera, tucked up in her own bed, shiver pleasantly. Gary's voice is a comforting rumble, his breath warming her neck just below her ear, as he describes their escape from their everyday life.

Neither of them actually want this escape. They both know how lucky they are to have this life at all, but in the late hours of the night, it is nice to pretend that they are free to go and do as they wish.

As soon as the thought has entered Cythera's mind, a wail starts up, shrill and insistent.

"And then," Gary continues, pretending he hasn't noticed, though his tighter grip on his wife suggests otherwise, "we could go to the Roof of the World. Alanna says it's a wonderful holiday spot, if I recall correctly. Bit chilly in parts."

Cythera throws him an amused look, pressing a kiss to his jaw line. "Not sure it quite fits with our plans so far for your birthday."

"Nonsense. It fits perfectly after that awful dinner Jon insists on every year. Just think; you could have me all to yourself. No," he cautions, as she tries to sit up. "You're staying right here. He needs to learn."

"Gary," she warns, attempting to extricate herself from the sheets - a task made more difficult after he wraps an arm around her middle in an effort to keep her still. She isn't exactly keen to move either, but the howling continues.

She shudders as her bare forearms are exposed to the cold night air. "Just this once. He'll be keeping everybody awake."

"Excellent. People sleep too much altogether around here," Gary murmurs, punctuating his point with a wide yawn. She knows that means he plans to sleep till at least noon tomorrow; they often sleep late in Naxen, and rise early in Corus. "You'll catch a chill wandering around at night, and I'll have to take the children to Meron on my own. I'm not promising anything, but it's likely you'd either lose a husband or a sister that way."

Cythera presses a finger to his lips, ending the inevitable Roxanne tirade before it has a chance to get going. She loves her husband, and loves her sister – really, what is she supposed to do? "Shush... He's stopped now."

Gary grins, sitting up. Smugness practically radiates from him. "You know what this means, I hope? I was - _ouch_!"

A small figure had come hurtling through the door and jumped onto the bed, landing on top of Gary.

"Yes, darling. You were right," Cythera laughs, shifting so Gareth the Very Youngest (as Douglass has dubbed him, though he's otherwise known as 'Geoffrey') can clamber in between his parents. He is all cold feet and chattering teeth, and next time, she vows to go to him right away. "What is it, sweet?"

Geoffrey wraps his arms around her, pressing his tear-stained cheek to hers. "She w-w-wants to eat me, Mama," he says through shaky sobs, wiping his nose on their sheets.

Gary places a hand on his son's back, rewarded by the boy kicking out as he wriggles about in an attempt to get comfortable. "Who does?"

"Aunty Rox- Roxanne."

Gary is suddenly overcome by one of his well-timed coughing fits. Cythera has been party to too many of these over the years to be convinced by it, and she can only think that this will make the visit to her sister's all the worse. When he has recovered enough to be capable of speech, he manages, "Don't worry, Geoffrey. I'll make sure she doesn't come anywhere near you."

* * *

"Mama, Mama!"

A breathless Geoffrey appears in the doorway, though Cythera's needle does not pause. Her son's attempts to distract her run like clockwork, and she needs to get this cushion finished, so Jaquetta can take it with her to the convent tomorrow. "Yes, dear?"

"I can go to the convent too, Mama!"

Jaquetta's laughter alerts Cythera; her head snaps up, and her eyes round in surprise.

"Jaquetta, don't make fun of your brother," Cythera raps out, setting her embroidery down. She threads the needle through the cloth, which gives her time to steady herself. "Geoffrey, come here."

Jaquetta raises an eyebrow at her mother, watching the latter unravel Geoffrey from Zenoby's bed sheet. "I'm not making fun of him, Mama. He wants to go to the convent with me; I thought I could help him. You're always saying how important it is to help family when they need it. Isn't that why you always have to go to Meron to help Aunty Roxanne?"

Cythera stands briefly to fold the bed sheet, not feeling up to the conversation. It isn't the clothes. Normally, she would find Geoffrey stumbling about in Jaquetta's old gown amusing, though she would never approve the use of a sheet as a train. She can't explain it, though, not to her daughter. "Go get your father, Jaquetta. He won't be pleased with you."

"Yes, he will," Jaquetta says smugly. "He said Geoffrey was breaking down social conventions, just like Aunt Alanna. He said it was important to ensure all Tortall's children were given the same opportunities. He said-"

"That sometimes it's better to keep your mouth shut," Gary finishes, appearing behind Jaquetta. Cythera is surprised to note that the girl comes up to his shoulder already. "Come on, Jaquetta. Joke's over; get Geoffrey cleaned up and ready for dinner."

Jaquetta rolls her eyes and flounces out of the room, followed by Geoffrey tripping over his skirts.

"You're not really cross, are you, dear?" Gary asks, sitting beside Cythera, right on top of her embroidery. "Jon used to dress up in Aunt Lianne's clothes on a weekly basis when he was Geoffrey's age, and Douglass probably still pretends to be his own younger sister, though Mithros knows why, since Sacherell was the only one to fall for it."

Cythera smiles, attempting to salvage the remains of the cushion cover from underneath her husband. She isn't sure how the needle has disappeared, though she won't inform him just yet. "I'm not sure Dougy should be how you measure normal behaviour, darling. I'm all right, really. It's just - Gilmyn's a squire, Zenoby's at the convent, Jaquetta's at the convent. I just - I want-"

"I know," Gary answers, dropping a kiss on the top of her head.

* * *

Cythera smoothes over the covers of the empty bed, trying to pretend she is tucking in a squirming little boy.

"Mary won't be pleased, with you messing up all her hard work."

She merely nods mechanically in response, feeling the mattress move underneath her as he sits down on the bed. She can't imagine it is Geoffrey in his father's place.

"We'll see him in a week."

She doesn't reply, biting down hard on her lip in an effort to stop it from trembling. The room is cold, and of course there is no sense in lighting a fire in it for quite some time.

"It was your idea to give him time to settle in on his own."

Cythera twists to face Gary, the corners of her mouth turning down. They have talked about this day, about being able to please themselves and only themselves again, but now it has come, she feels hollow. "Oh, I know it was. I'm being silly. They're - all gone now."

"I know what you're thinking, Cythera of Naxen - no more," he warns, as though she could have matched Thayet's brood of six if she'd merely had the inclination. "I finally have you all to myself again."

She nods, looking uncertain, and he pulls her into a tight embrace.

"He'll be happy there," Gary murmurs into her hair.

"Oh, I know," she repeats, turning her face into his chest, her arms curling around his shoulders.

She still has Gary, after all, and her children deserve their own lives.

* * *

"Scar_let_! That's the piece I wanted!"

"It is not as though you can afford the extra padding, squire boy," Scarlet of Meron shoots back, claiming her plate.

"At least I don't look like I'm eating for seven," Geoffrey snaps, reaching for the next one and missing that too, as his sister sweeps it out of reach.

Jaquetta and Zenoby smile at each other, unobserved by the other Meron children. They have learned – Zenoby best of all – that it is easiest to simply shrug off comments from their cousins, and laugh at them later, but Geoffrey is still intent on fighting back. At least this time, Harmony still has a full head of hair, though of course there is still dinner to get through.

"Dear me, that's quite a temper you've got there, young Geoffrey," Roxanne observes, entering the room. "I'm just grateful none of _my_ children ended up like that."

Cythera, just behind her sister, pauses at the door, placing a hand over Gary's mouth.

Zenoby and Jaquetta snort into their goblets, whilst a loud thump from the other end of the table suggests Geoffrey has been unsuccessful in his attempt to kick his cousin.

"Honestly, Geoffrey," Roxanne sighs, taking a seat. "If you keep this up, you'll never get married."

Behind the door, Gary raises his eyebrows at his wife, caught between amusement and astonishment.

"Of course I will," Geoffrey answers smartly, rocking back on the hind legs of his chair. "Someone was stupid enough to agree to marry Scarlet, after all."

"I have a lot to offer a man, Geoffrey," Scarlet says coldly.

Her tone doesn't put Geoffrey off replying, "Oh, I know. My knight-master says-" (Zenoby and Jaquetta groan on cue) "-that you show off both your assets to great effect. Don't worry; I'm sure he means your wit, and your charming personality, not your-"

"Do you remember when you said you wanted everybody to get together at Midwinter, before Zenoby and Scarlet got married?" Gary asks Cythera, barely audible beneath the shriek from the other room.

Cythera nods, managing to keep her face entirely solemn as chaos enfolds next door. It helps as she spies Gilmyn's empty place; Dolsa is heavy with child, and they did not wish to risk the return journey from Rosemark.

"Well, as enjoyable as that's turning out, maybe next year, I could organise a diplomatic visit for next Midwinter."

"That sounds wonderful, dear. You, me, and Tusaine. You needn't worry about me finding something to do there whilst you're being diplomatic; the king said he wanted to show me around his gardens the next time I visited."

She smiles up at him, before leaving to face the pandemonium in the dining room. Gary rubs his head, trying to decide which is worse; his wife's family, or the prospect of her invitation to the Tusaine king's pleasure gardens.


End file.
